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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 21, 2008 13:48:00 GMT -8
So her eyes had darted down, involuntarily, for a fraction of a second, before she stoically met his eyes. Stubbornly, you could say. No need to mention the gulping at the touch. Or the blushing. Eve never blushed. Never!
"Fine," she said sullenly, removing her hands from his shirt. The nice shirt that was now wrinkled because of her. Not that she cared, but then why did she feel the need to fix that? She absently brushed them out before quickly dropping her hands to her sides and took two steps backward. Out of the personal space, away from the uncharacteristic actions that kept on coming from her. Ugh.
"I won't attack without reason," she said. "That's the best you'll get out of me."
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Post by shinigami on Jul 21, 2008 15:37:01 GMT -8
"What a poor best to get," he says, thoughtfully.
He'd watched as she tried to smooth his shirt back to unwrinkled perfection, his mouth twisted, wry. Darren wasn't unused to such ministrations; he'd survived for years with a valet, after all. For a time, it hadn't been polite for a gentleman to know how to dress himself. But see: he'd watched her with such an intensity.
"Well, I won't take your money without giving you candy. You attacked the machine and then you ran before the security guards could take you." He can't resist a smirk. "Your session went well, I take it?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 13:35:17 GMT -8
"Aw, that's all?" Eve said, with a mock pout. "I would have thought something more exciting happened. I could have done that without the help of a blackout. Sheesh."
With a shrug, she moved across the living room and righted a chair only to plop down on it, dangling her legs over the arm. "The session... was pretty much as I expected it to be. Kept trying to bring up my childhood, see if it all stemmed from there and all that jazz. I was supposed to go get hypnotized in the next one. What malarky. Can't go now, and can't say it's too bad of a thing. The shrink was annoying."
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 15:09:29 GMT -8
(( Eee! She said malarky! Awesome! The word... It spreads... *steeples fingers*
Real post coming! *g*))
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 20:09:29 GMT -8
"I don't think you could have," Darren says, thoughtfully. Look, even his cruel mouth looks thoughtful. He strokes his chin. Pensive looks good on Darren. Well, everything looks good on Darren. He's quiet for a beat, just looking at her, and Eve might get the feeling that he isn't even really looking at her. And she'd be right.
He also grimaces, disappointed, after a second. "So you're just going to give up, huh? No more help? So what now? Medication?" He waits a second. "Booze?" He's so helpful. And there's a smirk, behind the words. For those who care to look for cruelty. "Security cameras?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 20:12:48 GMT -8
"I was thinking about getting one of the tracking devices implanted in my butt, like dogs," Eve drawled, sarcasm practically dripping from her words. "Or maybe just tying myself up so I can't get anywhere. But then I'd have to find a way to get fed and watered. Maybe released on good behavior for a shower once in a while."
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 20:31:36 GMT -8
"Shhhhhhhhh."
He looks so damned serious. His body is poised, posed on the edge of a stillness; as if he'd heard something, maybe. He flicks his gaze around, and then, with a smile,
"You don't know how that kind of talk turns on us mass murderers."
A joke? Hard to tell. He adds, "So I saw you safely home." He did see her home, anyway. He watched her go into it. Yeah. "Aren't you going to give me a tour?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 20:49:19 GMT -8
"What? The tracking chip or the tying up?" Eve shrugged a shoulder, a careless motion. She should be scared, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. "Hmmm, remind me to call the cops on you one of these days."
She looked around the living room at his touring question, and grimaced. "Don' wanna," she mock-whined. But she still rolled off of the chair and straighted. "Fine, be that way. So demanding. Sheesh."
So she looped her arm through his, no permission asked, and started to drag him through the house, her hip occasionally bumping his and causing her cheeks to redden just slightly. Ugh.
"Hallway. Kitchen. Computer room." She said pointing at each respective and small room, and led him up the stairs. "Bathroom. Room mate's bedroom. My bedroom. Tour done. Happy?"
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 21:35:01 GMT -8
First, he's just got that cool and cynical arrogance down pat with a side order of taunt. But when she takes his arm? Well, she's not looking at him, but he frowns a little. Because, well. She hadn't asked permission. And he'd already touched her so many times today, and each time it felt --
well. Right.
Darren? DID NOT. APPROVE. And what Darren does not approve? Imagine something really bad happening to what Darren does not approve. For that is what happens to that which he does not approve. Oh yes.
But he doesn't pull away. That'd be weak.
So she looped her arm through his, no permission asked, and started to drag him through the house, her hip occasionally bumping his and causing her cheeks to redden just slightly. Ugh.
He sort of leans back and peers into her room mate's bedroom. Says, "Room mate? You two close?"
And then -- her bedroom. Darren looks at Eve. It's one of his intense looks, something edged. Knife-sharp, and somehow, also, silk. It'd hurt, but you'd like it. That's the look, what the look says.
He, however, says : "Is that a stuffed pony I see?"
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 21:57:11 GMT -8
"Not unless you're imagining things," Eve said, with a chuckle. Her and a stuffed pony? HA! That would be her room mate, forever caught in childhood. Her room mate's room was all pink and sparkles, and Eve had the suspicion that the girl even sh*t sparkles. Ugh.
Eve's room, however, was the least decorated of all the rooms. It had a trunk of her belongings. The necessities. A bed. A dresser with clothes. And that was it. No pictures of family. No posters of favorite bands. Nothing.
"If you want ponies, you'll have to see Veronica," she continued on, ducking around Darren to go plop on her bed. She may not be into decorations, but her bed was pretty comfy. She'd saved for months to buy this one, just cause it was the most comfortable in the bed store. "Though try not to have any seizures going into her room. That place.... Just ugh." Eve even shuddered at the thought. That girl had some major issues. And Eve thought she, herself, was crazy. Pah!
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 22:12:16 GMT -8
"I see," he says, cool. He takes his leisure with how he looks around the room. How he soaks it in, soaks it up. Notes potential exits and weapons, should she go insane again. "Well, well, well, Eve. Good job. If you do get institutionalized," and he sounds sincere, and he is sincerely a bastard, and cruel, "your room there can look just like this one. Empty."
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 22:29:43 GMT -8
"Ask me if I care," Eve said, with just as much of a bastardly tone, her eyes narrowed. "At least it's not a room covered in pink and sparkles! My goodness, why are you such a jerk?"
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 22:33:50 GMT -8
"Says the woman who attacks innocent candy machines, then flees the scene of the crime." He glances at her, guileless. "Aren't you going to ask me to sit down? Offer to get me something to drink?"
There go his teeth, again. Throb, sensitivity.
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Post by lily tomlinson on Jul 22, 2008 22:45:13 GMT -8
"Says the man who keeps looking at me like he wants to eat me, who keeps talking about being a mass murderer," Eve shot back. There was a challenging sort of tone to her voice. She wasn't about to be cowed. "You know where the kitchen is. You know where the seats are. If you want something, get it yourself. I'm comfortable, and no one's forcing you to continue to stand."
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Post by shinigami on Jul 22, 2008 23:12:57 GMT -8
His lip curls, slightly. An aloof form of disdain, but -- lovely, if such a thing can be said of a man like Darren. Women just don't know their place these days. He's had years -- centuries -- of a world in which women just weren't expected to behave very differently from servants. A world in which men weren't just inherently superior, but they were the only creatures that had souls -- and women didn't. He'd seen firsthand the truth of that in the shape of his wife, after all. "How else -should- I look at you, doll?"
But he does take a step back, so he's standing in the doorway of her room. Waits for her answer, before... He goes. To the kitchen, presumably.
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